The Rhythm Of Rhyme
by ChocolateCarnival
Summary: A shameful, cursed, existence. Touka never wanted things to end the way they did. She wanted to stand strong on her own and protect those close to her. Instead, she experienced only pain and sorrow. Now, as she escaped Tokyo, she makes it to a small town on the outskirts of the big city. Where she finds an unexpected haven and also the entrance to a whole new world of instinct.
1. Prologue: White Silence

Hello My Honeys, I know it's been a long while since I've update but I went and injured my dominant hand so typing is really painful these days. I apologize that I haven't been able to update anything substantial, I simply couldn't no matter how I tried. I decided to write this crossover for now though, whilst the inspiration is still fresh. I need to do something to get back into my routine again and I hate the fact that I haven't been able to do much over these last few weeks.

I don't write Het often but I really like the dynamic between these two characters, I need something a little different for now. There's something about Kirishima Touka from Tokyo Ghoul and Ichigo that meld together really well and I've been looking for an excuse to write Touka for a while now. The Rhythm Of Rhyme has several warnings, however…so please heed them well:

The Rhythm Of Rhyme Contains: **M/F Lemons, Angst, Gore, Violent Themes, Tokyo Ghoul &amp; Bleach Crossover, Blood Play, Canon Setting for Tokyo Ghoul** (The Time- Skip after the Raid on Anteiku), **Canon Setting for Bleach** (17 month Time-Skip after Aizen's Defeat). **Controversial Themes, Aspects** of **Cannibalism, Two Part Update** and a possible play of **Dominance** and **Submission**.

The Set Pairing is: **Kurosaki Ichigo (**黒崎 一護**) x** **Kirishima Touka (**霧嶋 董香**)**

Just on a side note, I have been busy these last few weeks creating a Facebook page for Chocolate Carnival. My Honeys can find the link to the page on my profile as well as my Blog. It's easier to contact me there and ask questions, I also collect several links, photos and videos that my honeys may enjoy. I look forward to hearing from you.

For now though, please enjoy my honeys…I'll leave it over to you

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**Prologue: White Silence**

Snowflakes were descending silently and gently from the heavens above, creating a haunting sight where splinters of faded light broke through heavy clouds and illuminated entire cityscapes in fractured shades of grey. Charting a monochrome world that was immersed in a rainbow of pale colours, time stood still to carefully balance the precipice between everlasting peace and overbearing isolation as the soothing intermediary of snow, like the crystalized state between flowing water and solid ice, muted a bustling town and froze silently through the air. In perfect accompaniment to winter's virulent frost, a substantial gust of wind was singing mournfully between complex labyrinths and monolithic buildings as it howled deafeningly through Karakura Town's intricate grid of roads and linked numerous homes to the outskirts of a small town. There was simply _no_ escape from the winter's touch. Everything had become suspended between two points in time where nature ruled over humanity and those caught in its clutches were forced to take a collective breath to ease their instinctual unrest. As a binding point that danced solely to the world's rhythmic whimsy though, the splendour that drifting snowflakes created was undeniably winter's defiant answer to spring's flourishing blossoms and summer's sun ripened crops.

Alas, out here, where the world was far removed from Tokyo's grandiose and towering glass citadels; Karakura had become the perfect example of suburban peace and quiet isolation. Where the midwinter afternoon weather, as the sun sunk lazily beneath the overcast horizon, prompted several residents and high school students to disperse from their daily routines and leisurely stroll towards the comforting warmth of their own homes. There was_ no_ doubt that an intensifying snowstorm would soon encrust the entire city in thick layers of crystalized ice, deep blue eyes gazing mournfully at the darkening clouds that accumulated in the heavens above as a soft miasma of misty white spilled sensually from between parted petal pink lips. Straining breaths, one after the other, were still catching painfully in struggling lungs. Kirishima Touka hating the fact that she had to defile the natural purity of a winter wonder with the blood that flowed so indiscriminately from her enemies' cooling corpses. The two Ghoul Investigators that had been chasing after her and Hinami since they had exited the fourteenth ward with Yomo-san several weeks ago, eventually vanishing beneath the frigid currents of the Karasu River with a well-placed kick of her boot as she rested her hand against her side and gasped restlessly through the rising pain that threatened to consume her soul from the inside out.

She was fighting valiantly to stem the bleeding from a wound a merciless S-rated Quinque had carved from her abdomen. Her own Kaguna long since having burned out as gathering rivulets of blood stained her left hand and miscoloured the snow beneath unsteady feet with large gravitational droplets. It was a small mercy that the walkway next to the river bank was empty of people during the winter time, Touka thought to herself absently. She _really_ didn't need witnesses to the brutality her actions. _Nor_ did she want the unwanted attention of local police finding unknown bodies polluting the waterways in her presence. In order for their small group of three to survive their new home, she couldn't allow anything to screw up the inherent peace that was present in the small town itself. If that meant Touka had to turn to her more ruthless nature and wilfully cast aside her love for humans, she would do so without second thought. Because after the raid on Anteiku had resulted in the slaughter of countless ghouls she treasured like family, the seventeen-year-old had sworn to her very soul that no one else would become sacrifices for the Doves in her presence if she possessed the strength to prevent it. She would live shamefully like the monster she was…_mercilessly_ destroying all who stood in her way and never again drawing away from the duty to those whom she vowed to protect.

Hissing softly in strain as an overwhelming wave of nausea and dizziness forced her to sit down on a thick blanket of snow, Touka eventually sprawled out on her back as her left palm clamped fitfully around the bubbling hole in her stomach. Her mind was patiently counting down from ten, desperately trying to balance a continuing battle within herself to push aside the excruciating pain as mournful blue eyes fluttered restlessly behind pale eyelids and all forms of coherent thought fled her mind. The sun was already sinking low beneath the celestial plains, engulfing the frost covered river bank in the coming shadows of the night as a silent prayer fell quietly passed luscious lips and the dark haired teen listened intently to the ebb and flow of rushing currents next to her. A single visible blue eye was lidding exhaustedly behind long black lashes. Shoulder-length locks, feathering attractively in the snow around her, so dark in hue that thick strands shimmered a deep midnight blue as stylish bangs tumbled forward to artfully conceal her right eye from the world. Long fingertips were already clutching feverishly at a messenger bag that was drawn diagonally from her left shoulder to her right hip, the brand new black winter coat she had bought a few days before slowly discoloured by flowing, sticky, carmine as the white furred hood did little to preserve her body's natural warmth from the freezing elements.

She _truly_ regretted wearing only short black shorts, a light blue tank top and shoulderless turquoise jumper beneath as matching thigh-high white socks accentuated the heavy and intricately buckled boots settled on her feet. If she had known that her short walk to the library would turn into a deadly fight for her life, Touka would have dressed much more appropriately to shield against the buffeting wind and intensifying storm. To think though, that she had deluded herself and her family into believing they were safe from Tokyo and the CCG's reach, was a misconception that had nearly cost her much more than a painful injury. It had _almost_ been a fatal mistake._ 'It's useless to worry over things that have already happened, Touka-chan.'_ The Tensho(1*) would always scold her, so the seventeen-year-old breathed deeply several times to steady her uneven exhales as she gingerly put more pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding. _'Find a safe place to heal your wounds first. __**Then**__ worry about what comes next.' _Listening intently to the delirious words of wisdom that echoed deafeningly through the rush of blood in her ears, prompted scorching tears of regret to gather in the corner of haunting blue eyes as the dark haired teen was reminded of the man she loved like a father and another friend who's gentle yet firm, sad, voice she would never be able to hear again.

Stubbornly worrying a bruised bottom lip between biting teeth, Touka violently locked away a flood of heavy emotions in the darkest corner of her mind as she bit back a bitter sob of despair and forced herself to stand on shaky legs. _Now's not the time to be thinking of such trivial things_, she scolded herself harshly. In situations where time was precious and there were countless threats hidden in the shadows, placing one foot in front of the other and standing strong was the only way to ensure her survival. No matter _how_ painful it was to move, no matter how difficult it was to keep forging ahead…Touka had no other choice but to push through her all-encompassing anguish and sorrow. For little Hinami who was all alone in this world without her, the younger ghoul's beloved 'Onee-chan' _had_ to stay strong. Slowly making her way down an ice encrusted pavement in the direction she overheard one of the high school students talking about in the library yesterday, heavy eyelashes were brushing distractingly against blood stained cheeks as the dark bluenette wracked her mind for any flow of logical thought. If she could remember correctly, there was a small family clinic that was close to the river around here and did not answer to the state hospitals where her true identity would be at a greater risk of being discovered.

With a ghoul inheritance like Touka's, a considerably serious wound like this would probably take a week to heal under the right circumstances. Whereas, for normal humans, it would take months _if_ they were strong enough to survive the initial shock and extreme blood loss. Touka _hated_ relying on human kindness, however. There was too much possibility for things to go wrong. And with her luck, she would probably lose control of herself and end up taking another innocent life she would be cursed to regret for centuries to come.

Swallowing heavily to curb the nauseating bile that was rising in her throat, unfocused blue orbs were watching the drifting white flakes that fell silently from dark clouds in the sky and accumulated in a thick blanket on the ground. There was a time where she could remember truly loving the snow. Even now she found herself being drawn to its distant purity and soothing gentleness. It had always been so beautiful and peaceful, possessing the strangest ability to lull her soul into an untouchable state where only inherent purity and quiet silence existed. Now however, it was fraught with reminders of painful things. Of Kaneki's decision to leave her and Anteiku to see the world for himself, his senseless death by the hands of the Doves, the Manager's sacrifice to protect her, Irimi-san's murder, Koma-san's punishment, Ayato's attack…_all_ the things she had lost and could never regain again…

_'If only—.'_ Quick to stop herself _before_ those words could even resound from her lips, Touka urged herself ahead with a bitterly hissed 'move forward'. The only way to survive was to focus solely on the ground beneath her and the slow and uneven rhythm of her footsteps. The sound of rushing water was soon fading away into the distance, the blue haired seventeen-year-old leaving the Karasu river behind her as she entered the complex grid of streets that lead deeper and deeper into Karakura's homely middle-class suburbs. Rows and rows of quint and well-kept homes were built in neat parallels to the paved walkways, each building near indistinguishable from the next except for small deviances in the lay of gardens and the colours of the walls. In contrast to the overcrowded city and near poverty she had grown up in in Tokyo, constantly on the run from both her own kind and the CCG, this place was like an unattainable heaven that was out of her reach and way beyond her means. It was—. Stilling abruptly when the sound of running footsteps shattered the dusk's inherent quiet, Touka frantically scanned her surrounding for a place to hide before she was seen. However, with the edges of her vision blurring alarmingly as she tensed her shoulders and prepared to bolt behind the fence of a side street, she was forced to lean against a cold lamp post instead as her breath froze in her lungs and her mind spun in dizzying circles.

_Shit!_ The wound in her stomach was leaving behind a noticeable red trail that was hard to miss. Her shorts, white socks and left thigh stained a disgusting carmine that was drying on her hands and betrayed an distressing seriousness that a ghoul's natural regenerative abilities should have been able to heal easily enough by now. All that she could do to settle her pain in those moments, was to lean her temple against cold metal and watch misty breaths flow rapidly and despairingly from parted petal pink lips. Bowing forward protectively around her injury, elegant fingertips were pulling a white furred hood over her head as dancing shadows partially concealed hauntingly beautiful features from sight and a single dark blue eye followed a young girl that was running down the pavement with bouts of joyful laughter drifting through the air around her. From behind hooded lashes and the all-encompassing distraction of her pain, the world seemed narrower and more focused. Touka praying to whatever deity that watched over this town, that her newly gained audience would bypass her presence without notice. Just when she thought her luck would hold out and the shadows had hidden her well enough, her world was abruptly shattered by a heavier gait that transversed the pavement with a more leisure pace and accompanied a tenor calling out with exasperated affection and rising irritability.

'Would you slow down, Yuzu! The shops aren't going anywhere! Neither are you a little kid anymore! There's no need to run!' The resounding voice instantly drew her back to herself, Touka bracing herself for the inevitable as she glanced upwards the instant light footed steps came to a halt in front of her and a surprised gasp echoed deafeningly through the air. What greeted her blurred and unfocused vision as she looked up, was_ vastly_ different from what she expected. Soft honey-brown orbs had locked concernedly with dark blue, the young girl (probably no older than thirteen) taking only one look at her older counterpart before she turned on her heel and shouted frantically for her 'Onii-chan'. Before the bluenette had a single chance to reach her hand out and plead for silence, she found herself being dragged out from behind the lamp post by a surprisingly strong grip as she was brought in full view of an approaching figure that was much taller than her and probably possessed the ability to analyze the current situation better than her own mind.

_No_ one would be stupid enough to dismiss the tell-tale red stains on her clothes as 'paint', damn it! No matter how Touka wished she could talk her way out of this one… She could barely even find the strength to curse her own stupidity in those moments. Her legs were simply too weak to support her fragile weight, finally giving way beneath her without warning as the immense strain her body had endured for several agonizing minutes became too much to bear.

A vibrant curse was all she managed before the world's sounds, colours and emotions drained away and turned everything a dull grey. Heavy eyelids were frantically trying to stay open, weak hands fighting a steady grip that wound around her upper arm before she could sink to the floor in an undignified heap. Touka was determined to stand on her own two feet however, glaring wilfully at haunting chocolate brown eyes that swam into her vision in the next few seconds and completely took over her wavering consciousness. They were as fathomless as the ocean depths, glittering as vibrantly as the shock of fiery orange hair that fell in a scruffy style about attractive features and framed pale cheeks in unkempt, thick strands. Partially concealing the perpetual scowl that was drawn between tangerine brows, the blue haired seventeen-year-old felt an unknown warmth creep across her nose as her rescuer's tall frame towered over her petite hundred-and-fifty-six centimetre frame. There was something about his enticing scent that was flooding her veins with fast heating desire, igniting a yearning hunger in Touka's soul that she had not felt for a very long time as the beginnings of red began to flood her vision and the whites of her eyes slowly began to invert to pitch black. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, her senses heightened by the release of the Kakugan as a flood of saliva saturated her mouth and dripped sensually from the corner of her mouth.

'F-fuckin' Doves! L-let me go, l-let me go or y-you'll die!' Things were fast getting out of hand, a cry of pain resounding from heaving lungs as she attempted to escape a firm grip and disappear into the night with a burst of speed. She only managed to get two steps away before the stubborn orangette caught her again. This time securing her form by curling his arms around her waist and telling her to stop moving. Remaining mindful of the severity of her wound with surprising skill, Touka could only listen with increasing panic as several calm instruction were breathed to his little sister and her entire body tensed as she was picked up and cradled against a strong chest. 'P-please let me go! I d-don't want to take innocent lives tonight…l-let me go!' Her desperate pleas fell on deaf ears however, a quiet tenor keeping her remarkably calm as the edges of her vision began to blacken and her pain overwhelmed her consciousness bit by bit. The only thing she could think of in those last moments as dark oblivion swallowed her whole, was that someone's gentle kindness was unknowingly pilfering her darker instincts and could very well seal the fates of two innocents...something she had no desire to do. She already lived with far too many regrets, far too many stains on her soul…

She couldn't take much more…

'E-enough! P-please don't make me take i-innocent lives…' Those were the last delirious words she was able to speak, a soothing tenor following her into the darkness with frantic calls attempting to bind her to the flow of reality. It was useless however, she could no longer push her body beyond the limits it could endure. When she did not answer her captor's words, intense chocolate brown eyes frantically glanced down to scan her features for any signs of life. With beautiful blue eyes closed behind pale eyelids, her breaths becoming increasingly shallow with every struggling exhale the escaped her lungs and the natural heat of her body draining from her skin; Kurosaki Ichigo could only tighten his grip around a petite frame as he hasted his pace towards the direction they had just come from. 'Damn it!' He cursed colourfully, not really sure what to make of the odd inverted colours of the girl's eyes he had just seen or the pleading, mournful, words that had fallen from petal pink lips. For someone so young to plead with him to abandon her to save himself, to not make her take innocent lives and endure the pain of what looked like a mortal wound was something he couldn't understand. She was an enigma that had much more to her story than the average human, a soul that was wrought with equal suffering and loss...

Just what was she? For a brief moment the former Substitute Shinigami had thought she was a hollow. The inverted sclera of her eyes that he had seen and the blood red of her irises was a telling enough indicator. However, the fact that he was cradling her so close to his body like he was now and he could _see_ her, meant that his theory was flawed. She was undeniably _human _or a creature with a human appearance. After Aizen's bitter defeat over a year ago and the orangette's sorrowful sacrifice to protect those close to him, Ichigo didn't possess the reiatsu to see Hollows, spirits or Shinigami anymore. He was just a normal 'human', cursed to forever live with the knowledge that there was another world out there that he could not reach no matter he wished to or what he had done to protect it. But all those rushing thoughts were useless to him now, Ichigo did not have the luxury of time on his side. He could feel the warmth of her blood seeping into his clothes, Yuzu already having run ahead to warm the Oyaji of the situation and his arrival as the lights of the Kurosaki Clinic spilled onto the street and illuminated the darkening night. An increasing panic was enclosing his soul, dark eyes glancing down one more time to make sure he was not hallucinating the situation.

For a teen, she looked surprisingly peaceful and petite...she reminded him a little too much of Rukia. Only the paleness of her skin, like the softly drifting snow, and the blood smeared across her cheeks betrayed the danger that she was in. And it was a danger that Ichigo wanted to save her from.

After all that had happened, he too didn't want to be responsible for a death he could prevent…

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1* - Tensho – Store Manager

So there you have it my honeys, I hope you enjoyed. Thank you so much for reading, I truly appreciate it. If I may ask for a small review, I'd be eternally grateful to you. It really would mean a lot since a bit insecure about this story, I haven't written Touka before.

Anyways, I need to run…I need to do something to dull my pain. Part 2 will be posted when I have the time to write it and the inspiration steadies. Untill then, please look forward to what comes next…I have a lot planned for this story. Any questions and comments, please don't be afraid to ask…I'll answer them as soon as I can.

I'll hopefully see my Honeys again soon,

Yours Always

Chocolate Carnival


	2. Chapter 1: Incense

Right my Honeys, I apologize that it took me so long to get the next part of this story out. It seems that despite my will to keep this a two-shot, it has become something much bigger instead. I am truly grateful for the great response from my readers, it truly means a lot that you enjoyed the prologue so long. Chapter 1 is an expansion of the characters and the setting, so I hope that you will the same amount of joy in it too.

Just in case you are not aware, I will list the warnings that will eventually come to pass over the next few chapters. They are: **M/F Lemons, Angst, Gore, Violent Themes, Tokyo Ghoul &amp; Bleach Crossover, Blood Play, Canon Setting for Tokyo Ghoul** (The Time- Skip after the Raid on Anteiku), **Canon Setting for Bleach** (17 month Time-Skip after Aizen's Defeat). **Controversial Themes, Aspects** of **Cannibalism and **a possible play of **Dominance** and **Submission. **

**The Set Paring is**: **Kurosaki Ichigo (**黒崎 一護**) x** **Kirishima Touka (**霧嶋 董香**)**

There's still much more to come, but for now, I offer you the first chapter. I don't have much more to say since I'm not well enough to place my thoughts in order. Just please, if any of the warnings have put you off, please don't read any further.

Other than that, please enjoy:

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**Chapter 1: Incense**

_'What of your sacrifice, Ichigo? After we disappear…what happens next? Will ya be devoured by yer sufferin' or awaken yer instincts te survive?' _Violently dragged into the depths of a waking consciousness with the resounding echo of a bitterly familiar voice, chocolate brown eyes instantly snapped open with a flood of unspoken anxiety as several stuttering breaths hitched painfully in heaving lungs and Kurosaki Ichigo curled desperate fingertips in the warm fabric that was drawn across his heart. Clutching a three-quarter long sleeve black shirt to help steady his increasingly panicked response, an array of sporadic shudders were racing down a bowed spine as vibrant orange bangs danced restlessly across the bridge of a straight nose and adhered wetly to numerous droplets of cold sweat gathered on his forehead. There was already a heavy frown of distress carved between tangerine brows, deepening the perpetual scowl that accentuated attractive features as pale lips parted to expel a rush of colourful curses that was sure to invite the ire of any normal adult in close proximity. Luckily for the orangette, the Oyaji was not currently in the clinic. The oldest Kurosaki had left a while ago with Yuzu and Karin on a family expedition to the town centre Ichigo was _supposed_ to have escorted his sister to until they had been interrupted by a gravely injured teenager instead.

Now, with the entire Kurosaki Clinic eerily silent and the darkness of the night growing heavier with despair, the seventeen-year-old could do little more to protect himself from the mournful recalls of the past as he leaned his head exhaustedly against a cool metal frame and rearranged himself on the window sill he was currently occupying. Resting a lazy forearm on a propped up knee, the loose fabric of cotton sleep pants were surprisingly warm against cold skin as sorrow darkened eyes watched the humid flow of his breath fogging up the window where his right shoulder was pressed for balance. Serving as a harsh catalyst to snap his senses from a heavy daze, the icy shock of frosted glass searing into his temple provided enough of a distraction to shake the orangette out of an array of unusual thoughts regardless of his hazed awareness that was strangely captive to snowflakes dancing whimsically beneath glowing artificial lights outside. Only the subtle illumination from a single bedside lamp, flooding the hospital room around him in a dim light, managed to drag stray thoughts towards midnight's deepening shadows that elongated across tiled floors and danced restlessly across the walls. The sound of out-of-sync breaths soon joined Ichigo's own uneven gasps, his mind struggling to decipher the digital clock display that was situated on a small table next to the only occupied bed in the room as a glaring red light seared the backs of his eyes.

Marking the time as 12:45 AM in sinister numbers, elegant fingertips were forced to pinch the bridge of a straight nose in sheer disbelief as the former Substitute Shinigami refused to accept he had been prisoner to harsh dreams and dark memories for little over three hours already. The rest of his family had probably long since returned from the shops and were in bed for the night. The solitary warmth of a furred throw haphazardly covering his legs and a turquoise scarf wrapped around his shoulders, told him that Yuzu or Karin had at least come to check in on him before they left without disturbing his sleep. That in itself was a rare event, Ichigo thought to himself. He had_ always_ been a light sleeper, no matter how exhausted he was or what the situation. And in return for the trouble he had unknowingly caused by sleeping in such a weird place, was sure to spark a right scolding in the morning again for exposing himself to the cold for so long and not drying his hair properly. That was_ if_ the Oyaji did not outright tease him for being a 'stalker' or cried to the ridiculous poster of their mother that his son had 'discovered the joys of love' or some other crazy, overbearing, father-inspired, bullshit. He had to constantly remind himself, after all, that he would _have_ to reel in his temper if he wanted to deal with Isshin's antics…otherwise he would just end up losing himself.

Holding back an unexpected groan of irritation that tickled the back of throat lest he wake the critical patient that was several meters away, apathetic brown eyes were scanning his immediate surroundings for any threat out of habit before the seventeen-year-old unconsciously found his eyes following the edge of a white duvet that had been kicked to the floor and crumpled sheets that tangled sensually around shapely thighs. A petite feminine frame had turned towards him sometime during the last few hours, the feverish heat of a heavy comforter too stifling for the girl to bear as the clinic's standard light blue yukata spilled open distractingly across voluptuous breasts, outlined fleshy feminine hips and accentuated beautiful curves that fit a small body-shape perfectly. The peak of clean bandages wound below an ample chest, pearls of sweat gathered on her forehead, dishevelled shoulder-length blue hair feathering across soft pillows and the erratic rise and fall of dainty shoulders, was the only indication that the young bluenette's life had been hanging in the balance not too long ago. The crippling wound that had been mercilessly stabbed through her left side though, left Ichigo both confused and surprised when his father had nonchalantly mentioned to him that it could only have been made with the edge of a sharp steel blade.

The clean, through-and-through cut was something that he himself was very familiar with now that he was aware of it. It was too precise and deep to have been created by anything except a sword or an implement that was close in construction to it. That begged the questions, however, of just who and _what_ she was. For what reason could she have been attacked? How had she survived such a wound when Isshin struggled to read any sizable reiatsu on her form or any trace of Shinigami or Hollow power? Where did she come from? And most of all, _what_ was it that he had glimpsed earlier? At first Ichigo had dismissed the sight of her inverted black sclera and blood red eyes as a trick of the light or a desperate wish on his _own_ part to see things that were not there anymore. However, now he was forced to acknowledge that there was much more to this girl's story than what he could comprehend through curious observation and speculation alone. Not realizing that he was staring openly at her partially naked form without shame, chocolate brown eyes had become lidded behind pale eyelids as the seventeen-year-old wracked his mind for any plausible explanation of why she had been sent across his path and why he had felt a such strange alignment of instinct in his soul when their bodies had momentarily touched for the short distance he travelled to the clinic with her insignificant weight balanced in his arms.

If only for the briefest of seconds, it had been like a distant delusion awoke inside him where the darker part of Zangetsu stirred to life and purred pleasantly at having found a companion that possessed the same intensity and depraved capabilities that his darker, more brutal, nature did. But _that_ was simply _impossible_. His Hollow existence should have been dead, sacrificed and silenced. It couldn't just appear—. Mercilessly severing those thoughts before they had a chance to consume his consciousness with false hope, Ichigo dragged irritable fingers through a scruffy mess of tangerine strands that tumbled low across pale cheeks and tickled distractingly across the bridge of his nose as he quickly averted his gaze when he realized he was staring inappropriately. _Damn_ it! Just what was wrong with him? She may have been hauntingly beautiful, he would give her that. But that was _no_ reason for him to forget himself and behave like a damn pervert! Before he could potentially make things worse by doing something stupid, bare feet became completely silent on tile floors as Ichigo crossed the several meter distance that separated them and bent down to retrieve the comforter that was thrown aside. Briefly contemplating if he should straighten the erotically dishevelled yukata that was draped across her form, he chose to pull up the sheets and tuck a warm duvet around her shivering form instead.

'You're going to get sick like this…' He breathed quietly, trying desperately to push aside the dusting of pink that decorated his own nose in delayed embarrassment. Not sure if the unconscious bluenette was able to hear him, he carefully laid the back of his hand across a pain furrowed brow to check for a temperature like he had done countless times as the older brother to two younger sisters. It wasn't long before a violent curse echoed passed pale lips, the orange haired teen brushing sweat dampened blue strands away from feverish skin to recheck his findings before he abruptly turned on his heel in search of the clinic's supply closet. There was already a tell-tale red creeping across her nose, several ragged exhalations increasing gradually with strain as chocolate brown eyes carefully tracked trembling limbs that shifted restlessly beneath pale sheets and long fingertips that clutched fitfully at the folds of a light blue yukata. It was like the bluenette wanted nothing more than to tear them off to ease her own pain, a fact that betrayed a great deal of anguish and physical distress she must have been enduring unconsciously. Ichigo couldn't imagine anyone surviving a wound like that and _not_ feeling the aftereffects for several continuous months afterwards, that was _if_ they did not spend _years_ fighting off the severe physical and emotional ramifications such an alarming amount of trauma and blood loss had the ability to create.

And yet, the girl he had found close to unconsciousness in the snow had been able to hide her pain remarkably well. The former Substitute Shinigami was well aware that humans had a tendency to voice their pain at deafening decibels when it was deep and severe enough, just like they would pass out not long after sustaining such an injury for the first time. He had lived through many similar situations himself, both as a Shinigami and a Human. However, the more one became exposed to pain and the more experienced one was with deadly combat, the easier it became to push your body to the limits to endure life-threatening wounds and enormous amounts of pain to ensure survival and victory—.

'Che, what the _hell_ am I thinking like an idiot? An innocent like her experienced in combat?' He scolded himself with a bitter chuckle, mournful chocolate brown eyes tearing away from the window he had been gazing out of for several seconds to collect himself as he finally spotted the marked door that was close to his father's office. Really, was _everything_ he came across these days and could not understand linked to the world he had lost contact with? A broken connection to death he no longer had the ability to be a part of or see for himself? Fuck! Why did his thoughts _always_ have to return to them: the Shinigami, Soul Society, his powers, the loss and consistent misplacement he felt every _single_ day he was forced to live without the strength to protect those whom he loved? He had already spent close to a year without hearing a single word from his friends. Even though Ichigo could clearly remember making the choice to defeat Aizen himself and sacrificing his powers to protect his family, he couldn't always control the bitter and resentful theories that rose in his mind whenever night fell across these planes and he was left captive to brooding thoughts for long periods of time. Casting dark eyes down shamefully at the undue blame he was placing on a world he should not have belonged to in the first place, the orange haired teen was left reeling internally when a painful sear burned deeply into the backs of his eyelids.

The moment he flicked on a light switch that was placed on the wall next to him, a burst of sensitized pain was blazing across his retinas as elegant fingertips used the steady surface of the wall to guide himself forward. He would gratefully welcome any distraction to escape the dark loop of inconsistent memories that played in front of delusional eyes in those moments, _anything_ just to separate his awareness from the startling heartache that was flooding his veins with every beat of his heart over and over and _over_ again. The Oyaji may have been useless at communicating with his children most of the time and knowing just how to annoy the hell out of them for fun, but if there was one thing his son knew well, it was that he was an excellent doctor _despite_ having carried the heavy burden of once being a powerful Shinigami. Not only was the Kurosaki patriarch accomplished as a well-respected paediatrician in Karakura Town, he had also taught each of his children enough medical knowledge to assist in the clinic should he need their presence to help him save the lives he had reaped not too long ago. It was probably_ why_ he was so good at his job. The former Taichō possessed the uncommon knowledge of balancing life and death better than anyone else, he knew _exactly_ how to stop a Chain of Fate from snapping prematurely.

After triumphantly completing his search of the storeroom and armed with the knowledge and supplies he needed, Ichigo hastened his steps towards the bluenette's room and made his way towards the solitary bed placed several feet away from the window ledge he had dozed off on. He simply couldn't help himself in the end, it seemed. Whenever he was restless and the winter months caused snow to accumulate in a soft blanket of white outside, he simply had to observe it and think of the one person who possessed a Zanpactō that had been just as beautiful as iridescent icicles and reflected the depths of a pure soul… And with the hauntingly beautiful blue haired girl constantly reminding him of _her_ gentle but stubbornly strong presence, he found a deep yearning in his heart for _that_ part of his existence to return to him. If only he had been strong enough, if only—.

Thankfully rescued from an unwanted mess of emotions by the sound of a beautiful and sorrowful voice calling out to him in considerable despair, the orange haired teen could only make a few incoherent words like 'Ayato', 'Ikanaide(1*)' and 'Yame te(2*). All of which presented its own mournful definition of pain and emotional upheaval for him to hear. The worst however, came when chocolate brown eyes noticed a single crystalline tear falling from the corner of long black lashes. Carving a shimmering path across fever-flushed cheeks, Ichigo felt deeply compelled to swipe it away with pad of his thumb as he had to physically still his right hand before he had a chance to cup her cheek and whisper a soothing lullaby to ease her anguished suffering. To appease his own conscience though, he called out to her softly. Using nonsensical words of comfort his mother used to whisper to him when he was sick with fever and pain, Ichigo carefully traced overly warm features with a cool washcloth to wash away shimmering pearls of sweat and offer her a grounding point in sensation. She was still moaning quietly, shifting restlessly to search out the coolness of a cold compress as a petite frame turned on her back and unconsciously followed the sound of her comforter's voice.

'You and I, we aren't so different are we?' Ichigo asked no one in particular. 'The same pain, the same despair and loss…I can hear it in the sound of your voice just as equally as it exists in mine.' He noted heartbreakingly, Ichigo deeply aware he shared something with this girl that had ignited an instantaneous kinship deep inside his soul. It had been a long time since he had felt anything on such an intimate level, his own emotions were simply too burdened by bitterness and disgust at the weakness he now possessed. However, as he looked at haunting features and listened to the sound of _her_ anguish, he realized there was much more to the situation and the connection they shared than he would like to admit. He wanted to know more about her, about _why_ he seemed to forget his own eternal numbness whenever he looked at her or the reason a shock travelled from his fingertips to his heart whenever he touched her skin.

Deep in the back of his mind, the stirring presence of a dark desire was starting to make itself known again as the third year student was harshly reminded of the voice that had brought him into consciousness earlier. He had been trying _so_ hard to forget it, damn it! To push it aside his bitter wishes before it had a chance to impale him on the clutches of false hope. But that seemed like a useless endeavour now. It had _definitely_ been the sound of the Hollow inside of him. Only, it must have been nothing more than a dream within a hopeful dream. It was the only logical place where he'd have a connection to something that could not be regained again.

'A-Aya..to?' Glancing down in surprise when weak fingertips curled around his hand that was balanced on the side of the bed, Ichigo felt his breath hitching in his chest when delirious blue eyes fluttered open several seconds later. In the dim light of a single bedside lamp, dark irises reflected broken array of fractal lights that flickered between ever-changing hues of violet, pale blue, white and bright turquoise. Crafting a sensual sight that was hard to ignore, luscious petal pink lips parted for several gasping breaths as a cough of strain echoed deafeningly through the air and the orange haired student felt himself completely pinned by an intensely reflective gaze. 'W-why are…s-scowling…? D-d-d-did y-you g-get injured a-again?' Unconsciously deepening the frown between his brows in response, Ichigo knew it was useless to try and worm himself from her grasp in those moments. He simply didn't have the heart. If he could offer her a brief reprieve from pain by staying close by, to ease the dark concern and loneliness in her eyes… he would keep bedside vigil until she woke. Reaching for a soft armchair that was thankfully within arm's reach, Ichigo sat down exhaustedly after several long minutes of contemplation as he tipped his head back to stare at the blank ceiling above.

'Baka…worry about yourself first. You're in much worse shape than I.' Carefully resettling a cold compress on her forehead, he finally gave in to his instincts and brushed away mournful tears that fell from the corner of long lashes. 'It must be painful to keep it all inside, ne?' He remarked quietly. She didn't answer, merely relaxing back into the sheets minutely as her semi-conscious state dissolved and hopefully transported her to sweet oblivion where pain no longer registered and nothing but exhausted, dreamless, rest lay ahead. Ichigo would give anything for dreamless sleep himself, _just_ to escape to a world where nothing could reach him and no emotion could touch him. Alas, even his Inner World was cut off from his current self.

_And so it starts again_, he thought mournfully. _I cannot escape my pain, I cannot escape my destiny and I still didn't have enough strength to transcend the shackles of fate…_

**_..._**

'You _bastard_! Who gave you permission to take photos you perverted Old Goat?! I'm going to murder you and return you to Seireitei with a red bow!'

_Kami, please spare the souls of the damned who decide to start a violent shouting match so close to an injured Ghoul_, Touka prayed to her slowly waking consciousness. She was already on the verge of losing her temper, a resounding hiss of pain escaping lush petal pink lips as hazy blue eyes fluttered open with great difficulty and an excruciating migraine impaled shards of glass through her skull from the outside in. The early morning sunshine was simply _burning_ through highly sensitized retinas, large spots of black swirling into the edges of her vision as her mind spun in dizzying circles and she struggled to adjust to the pain from a still healing injury and the lingering aftereffects of a retreating fever. From a great distance away, her enhanced senses were already becoming aware of an intensely attractive scent enveloping her form as an unexpected and fluffy warmth settled on the pillow beside her cheek. Fluffy? That was indeed a strange observation, she thought to herself dazedly. She_ must_ have been hallucinating. But when a heated object suddenly shifted closer and shivered fearfully at the echo of a returned shout, Touka realized it was a domestic animal that was seeking out her presence because it was afraid. Pushing through an immense amount of pain so that she could sit up, intense blue eyes took a great deal of time to adjust to the light in the room as she absently gathered a tiny, few month old white rabbit in the palm of her hand.

Shielding a small form in her lap, a rare smile was breaking across full lips as the pitiful little thing, no bigger than her two palms, yielded itself instinctively to gently petting fingers. A thickening coat of winter fur was tickling pale skin pleasantly, the little creature's presence miraculously making her forget her own troubles for a little while as she carefully indulged herself in the presence of one of her favourite animals. To be able to hold one of the pets she had always yearned to have herself and bring it so close to her chest, would have been a cherished and true delight were it not for two loud voices still caught in the depths of a heated argument. How much more was she expected to take? An angry twitch was already settling over her left eye, narrowed eyes scanning her surroundings for any suitable projectile she could hurl at the wall to make her presence known since she did not have the strength to call out for quiet herself. Thankfully, there was an empty glass on the table by her bed. Curling elegant fingertips around a crystal rim, the injured ghoul did not stop to think about the consequences of breaking someone else's glass as she threw it forward with remarkable accuracy. The sound of glass shattering in the distance was deafeningly loud, a shower of splintered shards raining down on white floors between two pairs of feet as a heavy silence suddenly replaced the previous noisiness out of fear.

Two sets of identical chocolate brown eyes had turned to her with surprised confusion, neither trespasser on her rest seeming to be alarmed that they had woken their injured patient as the bluenette hugged a small rabbit against chest and whispered a venomous 'shut up'. The older male with spiky black hair and a tell-tale doctor's coat, who had been cheerfully losing an argument with a tall orange haired teen, turned to her with a surprisingly serious gaze and gentle fatherly smile. Only one of them looked somewhat recognizable to her senses however, the tall orangette that was stepping closer in concern as she felt her breath suddenly freezing in her lungs. The deliciously appetising scent that had been haunting her in her dreams and through her pain, could only have been sourced from _him_. He smelled like a predator, a scent that was not unlike one of her own kind as she glimpsed a flicker of pure instinct haze his eyes in a shimmer of pure gold the moment their gazes collided and ignited a heavy crackle of electricity through the air. To devour those who stood in one's way, to cast away lives to satisfy an unbearable hunger and satiate a thirst for blood whilst treading through a hell of remorse, guilt and broken emotions on a daily basis… _That_ was the shameful, cursed, existence of a Ghoul.

And this unusual teen with whacky orange hair, a rebellious scowl of anger settled between tangerine brows and gentle eyes, observing her with a clear flicker of concern in depthless orbs, had become wreathed in the inescapable aroma of freshly spilled blood, enticing human flesh, overwhelming power brewing beneath the surface of his skin, rain and _death_. He was—.

'W-what…w-what _are_ you?' She asked without thinking, her own Kakugan threatening to show itself as she covered her exposed left eye with the palm of her hand just in case her will was not strong enough to control her body's natural response to a threat that read as both 'prey' and 'predator' in her mind. 'Is that any way to talk the one who saved your life, Ojō-san(3*)? It's 'who' am I, not 'what'.' The sound of a scolding tenor was surprisingly pleasant despite the added edge of irritation, reverberating with the same quiet control she had heard through brief snippets of sanity her mind had allowed her to perceive over the last few days. Speaking of which, the blue haired seventeen-year-old had _no_ idea how long she had been out. Judging by the decreased discomfort of her injury and the brewing hunger in the pit of her stomach, it must have been quite some time if not an entire week. Hinami and Yomo-san must have been worried by now, she thought to herself guiltily. She could only hope that they did not think her dead and had already moved on to the next suburb. Scanning her immediate surroundings for any sign of her belongings through the gaps between her fingers, Touka didn't seem to notice that the small white rabbit had leapt from her lap and was heading in the direction of the orange haired teen that had come to halt right beside her bed and he used gentle palms to scoop up a furry body.

'The name's Kurosaki Ichigo by the way, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. This useless old man next to me is my father, the doctor of the clinic you are currently in.' Lifting her head curiously at the sound of that name, Touka frowned deeply in thought when KurosakiIchigo as he just identified himself, bowed forward in an attempt to make eye contact with her through the gap between her fingers. An amused chuckle instantly built in the back of the bluenette's throat, her coherency sharpening into useful order as a surge of strength flooded her veins and sharp fingernails dug into her forehead to steady an overwhelming need boiling her insides just to have a_ taste_ of that enticing smell. 'Kurosaki Ichigo,' She repeated humorously. 'Strawberry, what an unexpectedly cute name.' Finally retracting the palm of hand her hand as the harsh claws of instinct released her soul for a moment of reprieve, shimmering blue eyes tilted her head back to take in the tall figure that was standing nonchalantly by her beside with a heavy scowl of anger. He was indeed tall, dark jeans conforming tightly to thin hips as a long sleeve black shirt and beige jumper accentuated a sculpted abdomen and lithe frame. A tasselled turquoise scarf was also partially concealing pale lips from sight, a fluffy white rabbit cradled in the teen's arms as long fingertips scratched twitching, floppy, ears affectionately.

'It's _not_ cute! Baka! It's 'Ichi' for number 'one' and 'Go' to 'protect'. I-chi-go, "to protect one thing."' Judging by the deadly glare that was shot in her direction and the flush of anger that decorated previously pale cheeks, Touka could tell that this wasn't the first time the fiery orangette had had this conversation. He was definitely not happy about it, even when she couldn't help the small smile that crossed her lips in response to the considerably childish and defensive reaction he had. 'Very well, Ichigo. Please forgive my incompetence, it truly is a very beautiful name.' Was it strange that she found herself meaning every word? She must have been quite delirious still, her thoughts strangely slow and difficult to decipher as the seconds ticked by. When she was interrupted by intense brown eyes colliding with hers curiously, she was sure they held just as much emotion and depthless thought as her mind could briefly recall from the night she had been injured. Even when Ichigo was blatantly staring at her from behind a thick tumble of orange strands, the blue haired seventeen-year-old simply could not force herself to look away. Something told her that the student's name meant more to him than what he had told her, it was something that defined his entire existence.

'Since you found my name so cute, what's yours then Miss Silent?'

'Kirishima Touka,' She answered quietly, her thoughts occupied by another wave of panic as she searched the room for her belongings once more. She was feeling intensely vulnerable beneath such an intense gaze, several minutes of silence passing by without a single shift in the air as Touka self-consciously closed the gap in her light blue yukata that had been showing a sensual peak of voluptuous breasts. Desperately trying to conceal the flinch of pain that transversed her skin and the hitch in her breath the moment she spotted a familiar messenger bag on the table next her, the Ukaku ghoul breathed a small sigh of relief when her eyes found a neatly folded array of clothes and heavy boots on an extra chair in the corner of the room. The previously torn and bloodstained fabric looked newly mended and washed, a small frown gracing her features when she noticed another chair placed right by her bedside. It was like someone had been keeping vigil over her, finding enough value in her existence and life to be concerned if she died. The world seemed to be slowing down around her again, her consciousness tilting on its axis as a flood of dizziness overwhelmed her mind and nothing seemed to make sense. What exactly was this? Who would have enough kindness to care for a ghoul and a being that was considered the scum of humanity?

'…ouka…_Touka_-chan?' Physically jerking back at the sound of a steady voice, intense blue eyes hastily snapped to the side of the room where a spiky haired doctor stepped away from the corner he had been sulking in and playfully gripped the scruff of his son's neck. 'It's time to get back to work, Ichigo! Stop slacking! Usagi-san isn't going to look after himself. If you do not want to get scolded by Ikumi-san later, do your work properly.' The instant that the words: 'Daddy has a patient to attend' shattered the air, it looked like Ichigo was valiantly holding back an explosion of a merciless anger. Strong shoulders were literally trembling with physical strain, a deadly glare narrowing chocolaty orbs as the orange haired teen skilfully stepped around the older man's grip and caused the doctor of the clinic to stumble forward with a harsh kick to his shin. 'I'm not done with you yet, Old Man. You're going to delete those photos one way or the other. Preferably before I get back, otherwise you _will_ die.' The threat was left hanging heavily the air, blue eyes watching the exchange with a frown as elegant and long strides slipped passed a doorframe and indoor shoes barely made a sound on polished tiles. Before the doctor could part his lips to ask a question, a different and unexpected apathetic glare froze Isshin in place as beautiful and crystal sharp eyes lidded sensually behind long curling lashes in daring challenge.

'Nah, Kurosaki-sensei, you wouldn't mind answering my question would you?' Long, silky blue strands were dancing in a dishevelled mess across dainty shoulders, cascading playfully around the back of an elegant neck to feather tenderly across soft skin. Touka was curling her arms around her own waist in search of self-created comfort, her body unconsciously creating a barrier to conceal her inherent vulnerability from the world as the tip of a pink tongue danced restlessly across dry lips to wet their parched softness. 'And what question would that be?' Isshin asked curiously, intensely serious eyes observing the injured teen as she rocked backwards and forwards to settle her rising pain and discomfort. That wasn't a good sign, he noted to himself absently. The bluenette had only been unconscious for three days, an unnaturally short span of time for someone who had endured such a vicious extent of injuries. The fact that she was so coherent and 'healthy' in appearance right now, was further proof of a theory he had constructed not too long after Ichigo had first brought her to him. However, to think of such a young one related to _that_ world simply because of the implement that caused her wound and the unusual rate that she healed with, seemed unfair and impossible. She simply didn't have the reiatsu strength or the feeling of a powerful soul, not to mention her Chain of Fate was completely intact.

'Mah~, I don't exactly recall—.'

'Don't play dumb with me, please.' Touka interrupted quietly, leaning back against an icy cold headboard for support as she kept her eyes trained on the tall figure that was sheepishly scratching the back of his head to evade her intense scrutiny. He was indeed a strange character, she thought to herself. It seemed like his true personality was far different from what he showed the world, there was a deadly seriousness reflected in his gaze that betrayed something within him that was much more than a human. His scent was also perplexing, it simply reeked of_ death_. To her senses, it was like he wasn't even alive despite her ears able to hear the steady beat of a heart and the flow of even breaths. 'As a doctor, the first thing you usually do to treat an injury like mine is through sedatives, emergency surgery and stitches. However, you weren't able to do any of those things, right? Several minutes have already passed and you have yet to ask me _why_ my skin cannot be penetrated by surgical instruments or needles. Neither have you transported me to a properly equipped hospital to deal with a severe injury like mine or called the police to report a physical assault by deadly weapon. In accompaniment to all the things a normal 'human' would do when faced with the unknown, you have not executed any of that.'

'Not to mention, Sensei, that you _smell_ of death. What exactly _are_ you?' A quiet hiss spilled passed pale lips, the young bluenette observing the spiky black haired doctor closely as he heaved an overly dramatic sigh and seated himself on a stool whilst rolling the wheels across the floor to her bedside with a clipboard resting in his lap. He was rummaging through a white medical cabinet, distracted by the objects his hands were gathering as Touka forced herself to wait patiently for his answers. She could already see the tension in strong shoulders, a flicker of calculation entering brown eyes as the eldest Kurosaki carefully contemplated what to say and what not to. Eventually placing several rolls of fresh bandages, disinfectant, a pitcher, glass and two tablets on a metal tray; Touka was momentarily stunned when gentle fingertips gripped her chin and a digital thermometer was pushed into her ear without her consent. She had never before been exposed to a situation like this, it was too dangerous in Tokyo to walk into any hospital or treat a wound with help outside of the ghoul community. And now, a near unheard whimper was escaping the teen's notice as her shoulders tensed in preparation to flee for the closest exit without looking back if needed. At the sound of an electronic beep, the older being thankfully drew away with a small apology and a reassuring smile as he noted down a number on a blank piece of paper.

'You're not used to doctors, Touka-chan, even when you are aware of how we go about treating serious injuries like yours. I find that unusual. Just like I am well aware you are far beyond any normal human I have treated before.' Subconsciously curling a trembling palm around the throbbing ache in her side, a full bottom lip was stubbornly caught between worrying teeth as the bluenette nervously averted dark blue eyes downwards to memorize the dishevelled folds in a warm white duvet as a distraction. 'Your senses are remarkably accurate to gauge the essence of my being simply by smell alone. That leads me to believe that you are not human yourself and that you have some ties to the world of _death_ in some way. However, with no sizable reiatsu and a completely intact Chain of Fate, you are currently and by all means, linked to _life_. You are not a Shinigami, you are not a Hollow, nor are you a soul trapped in between. You are too human to be a Quincy and your soul is too stable to possess Hollow attributes. It should be_ I_ that asks you what you are, Ojō-san, not the other way around. Are you a danger to my children if I keep here in the clinic? Do I need to call the authorities to deal with you like you said? Should I inform someone from Seireitei that deals with unknown threats and turn you over to the twelfth division or may I trust my instincts on this one and believe you are simply a young girl who has been through hell for most of her life?'

'Che, I don't want your pity. None of you have _any_ idea the hell we have to transverse day by day. It's no wonder so few us can look in the mirror and accept the fractured darkness staring back. The despicable things we have to do just to survive, the rivers of blood we walk through, the guilt of loss we bear…our existence is a sin in the eyes of humanity and yet is it wrong to want to live like you? Happy and carefree under the sun? We are cloaked in nothing but despair, sorrow and the shadows of the night.' A small voice answered with considerable difficulty, a flash of blood red reflected in haunted blue orbs as Touka pushed aside the blankets keeping her captive to the bed and tried to stand on her own two feet. Steady hands instantly curled around her shoulders, a strong grip preventing her from moving an inch the moment a cry of pain resounded painfully from desperately heaving lungs. It was almost too much for her weakened form, an ocean of darkness cresting against the edge of her awareness as her mind teetered on the precipice of approaching oblivion. In the lost pieces of her broken consciousness and a stubborn will to not be overwhelmed by pain and despair, a mournful sob echoed against sensitive ears as the blue haired teen wanted nothing more than to curse the limits she seemed to have reached _once_ again.

'F-_fuck_! Why did everyone have to go and die? I don't want—.' Realizing that something fundamental had cracked deep inside her and that she was spilling her greatest shame to a being she didn't even know, a heavy forearm was thrown over her eyes to conceal the scorching wetness that was clinging to pale cheeks as gentle fingertips, reminding her too much of the father she had lost, helped her back into bed and pulled a heavy duvet up to her chin. A soothing palm had come to rest against the top of her head, the older being saying nothing for several moments as she was given a chance to collect herself without a judgmental glare trying to analyze her responses or tear her apart from the inside out simply because she was _alive_ and different from the humans around her. Touka didn't understand what was going on anymore, this crazy looking doctor had so skilfully avoided answering her question whilst adding endless more to her previous one. And just when her own consciousness and strength was seeping from her body in a rush, leaving her helpless and afraid and alone without any way to contact those whom she loved like family.

'You should just rest for now, Touka-chan, it's remarkable that you were able to stay coherent for nearly an hour after enduring such an immense amount of blood loss. You still have quite the temperature too.'

'You never answered my question,' Touka interrupted through her own internal anguish, turning around to favour her good side as she absently pulled the duvet to cover her head. She could hear the creak of a chair as the Kurosaki patriarch stood, a pitcher and glass of water placed on her bedside table as a quiet sigh cut through the air and steady fingertips straightened a white doctor's coat over strong shoulders. 'What am I, was it? I'll make you a deal, little miss. If you quietly sleep in this bed until night falls, your temperature drops and you let me take a look at the progress of your wound without protest. Then, if you still want to know, I'll tell you the details that are needed.' Nodding in acceptance at those words, only the top of a blue head could be seen as Touka burrowed herself further beneath the sheets and allowed the pain she had been holding back to take her away into the abyss. Kurosaki Isshin could only heave his own sigh of concern, contemplative brown eyes glancing outside the window where the warmth of the sun was still too weak to melt away the blanket of accumulated snow.

'Just when things quieted,' He said absently, briefly contemplating contacting Urahara for help in finding answers to his own questions as he headed deeper into the clinic.

* * *

'Asked to believe that there is such a thing as life after death, is that supposed to be a comfort to us?' Wiping the sickening dregs of bitter bile from the corner of her mouth with the back of a trembling hand, Kirishima Touka clutched her stomach protectively as she knelt, once again, on a bathroom floor like a guilty teenager. The disgusting taste of human food was poisoning her internal organs, making her unbearably sick and off balance as the sound of water flushed away the evidence of her betrayal and the erratic beat of her heart finally forced her to her feet with great difficulty. The sun had set several hours before, bringing to mind the vast array of information the Kurosaki patriarch had imparted to her without a single indication that he was lying. However, the information she uncovered was more torture to add to a ghoul's conscience. Shinigami, Soul Society, Hollow, Jigoku (4*) and balancers that influenced the flow of life and death. It was hard to believe that there was no escape from bitter fate, her entire kind had been born under hell's curse and would eventually return there. If that was where the Store Manager, Kaneki and all those whom she loved ended up, she didn't want to know the pain they must already be suffering simply because of what they were.

Wasn't a person's actions in life supposed to be judged rather than what they were and how their nature prompted them to live? There truly was little hope for salvation now if they were already tainted when brought into the word as mere monsters that lived in the shadows of the night and had no hope for a better outcome to life. Ghouls could _only_ live whilst constantly losing. Yomo-san was right when he said those words, they couldn't do much more than endure the darkness that had been engraved so unfairly on their souls. Quietly closing the bathroom door behind her, Touka pushed aside her pain for now as she slipped out of the clinic's blue yukata and redressed herself in her own clothes. She simply wanted to feel the secure comfort of something familiar enveloping her skin, to know that there were still family waiting for her outside this clinic's walls as restless fingertips gathered her cell phone from her messenger bag and checked to make sure Hinami was still alright. She was lucky enough that she had been able to contact the young twelve-year-old and their guardian before the spiky haired doctor had shattered her world unknowingly. Now at least her small family knew where she was, they even promised to come visit soon. But was that enough to settle her internal upheaval? She truly _was_ shaken by everything that had transpired over the last few hours alone.

Too lazy to correct the shoulderless turquoise jumper that fell from dainty shoulders and partially displayed the lacy trim of a black bra, soft fabric tickled milky white skin as she seated herself on a window ledge that was close to her bed. _Anything_ to get away from a softness she was not used to and the stifling heat of an overly warm duvet, she thought to herself. Opening the glass to allow a winter breeze to brush across her face, her right thigh was brushing against the concrete outside the house as she drew her left thigh against her chest to shield herself from the inherent cold. She had gathered a warm winter jacket across her shoulders, dark blue eyes watching the waning moon ignite the dark sky with silvery rays as a slow breath of regained control was drawn into harshly resisting lungs. She wasn't even aware of approaching footsteps coming closer, her mind was simply too preoccupied by other things as the cold winter fogged the humidity flowing from parted lips and her sense of smell became ingrained with the scent of pure snow. The glow from her phone was illuminating her features in a dim light, a rabbit strap dancing in the breeze with unspoken memories as she suddenly jerked back in surprise when soft hair brushed her cheek and an unannounced presence bowed forward to see what she was doing.

'Waiting for a boyfriend to call, Touka-chan?' A haunting tenor asked nonchalantly. Skilfully evading the instinctive swing of a deadly fist, a grin of amusement was curling across pale lips as the former Substitute Shinigami captured warm fingers in the palm of his hand. 'Whoa! Such a quick response, you don't hold back do you?' When beautiful blue eyes collided with chocolate brown several seconds later, Ichigo felt his breath stalling in his lungs when he found himself gazing into an endless void. He was completely pinned in place by a raw _hunger_, making it feel like he could easily be overpowered and devoured by this girl if she so willed it. There was something in her gaze that was calling out to him, the darker nature of his existence purring in contentment as he unconsciously tightened his grip around dainty fingers and felt his body lean forward as if drawn there by a magnet. The unusual moment was abruptly shattered, however, when Touka snatched back her hand and looked away with a softly whispered apology. He drew back out of embarrassment too, his fingers tightening around the plastic bag he had just brought from the convenience store as he took a step back to create a respectable distance between them again. It was hard to talk to this girl, she easily ignited an array of confused emotions in his soul that was difficult to contain or understand.

'You'll catch a cold if you stay there, do you want to come inside the house for something warm to drink?' He asked as a distraction instead, holding out his hand to help her down from the window ledge with a gentle smile. When he noticed concerned eyes look over her shoulder to the room behind her and she eventually shook her head in the negative, a quiet sigh echoed passed pale lips as it coloured the air misty white and his free hand pulled a regal turquoise and black tasselled scarf around his neck more firmly in an attempt to ignore the subtle warmth creeping across his nose. 'The Oyaji is out for the night, if that's what you're worried about. It's just my sisters and I that are currently in the house. And if it's one thing I understand, it's staying all alone in such a cold place can be hell. We have coffee and a warm sofa…' The word 'coffee' seemed to be a selling point for the bluenette, graceful movements guiding her from the ledge without fear or a flinch of pain as the orange haired teen unconsciously stepped forward to take her weight in case she crumpled to the snowy ground and needed help to keep her balance. A steady palm resting against the centre of his chest halted him gently, a sad smile colouring petal pink lips as a hauntingly beautiful voice flowed like silver bells through the cold winter night.

'It's just 'Touka', Ichigo, we are the same age. I'm not one for formalities, it bears no weight on reality.' Keeping the palm of a cold hand against the beat of steady heart for a fraction of a second too long, Touka quickly withdrew her touch just in case the orangette's enticing scent become too much for her to bear. He was too vulnerable getting so close to her, she could easily use her strength to overpower him and sink her fingers into his chest and simultaneously bathe herself in his blood. All it would take was swift movement, natural ghoul strength and well-placed shove. However, that was the last thing she wanted to do. That was no way to pay back the kindness she was being shown regardless of being a complete stranger and a possible threat to the Kurosaki family's safety. So, after watching the orange haired teen give a wise nod at her words, quiet footsteps followed behind his steady gait as he took the lead towards the back of the house where another entrance was situated. He had wisely chosen not to say anything when he caught a brief flicker of pain glaze over blue eyes, his steps simply slowing to match the injured bluenette's as the front door eventually clicked open beneath the turn of a key and a touch of his fingers.

The entranceway was illuminated by a single light, Yuzu calling out a greeting from deeper inside the hallway as Ichigo removed black and white sneakers by the front door. He felt immensely guilty when he noticed Touka removing long thigh-high white socks that had become soaked through by the snow. Pale lips were struggling to part for an apology, chocolate brown eyes completely captivated by methodical movements as they slid silky fabric down creamy skin and a frown of concentration became engraved between dark brows. A luscious and attractive mouth was pouting slightly, blue eyes completely unaware of his gaze as he was forced to jerk of his head to the side and snap himself from a dark daze. He was reaching for a closet door that was close by, rummaging through umbrellas and winter coats for a dry towel to help the bluenette dry off as long fingers curled around fluffy fabric.

'Sorry, I should have noticed you didn't have shoes on.' A wry smile was the only answer he was given, the orangette refusing to lock their eyes in fear that she might see something in his expression. That she might notice the desire and warmth that flooding his skin and skittered painfully across his limbs. Her presence, it was deadly so close to him and he didn't know what to do anymore. It was unlocking things within him that had long since been dead and sacrificed, only trouble and strangle hope, seemed to lay ahead this time. But how to deal with it? That was another question Ichigo did not have an answer for.

* * *

1* - Ikanaide – Don't Go  
2* - Yame te – Stop it  
3* - Ojō-san – Young Miss  
4* - Jigoku – Hell

So there you have it, thank you so much for reading. I truly appreciate it. If you have any questions, please don't be afraid to ask. Also, if I may ask for a small review for my hard work, I'd be eternally grateful to you. I'm afraid I'm quite sick currently and my mind is kind of slow right now since I have a headache so I'll stop here, it's quite cool today so maybe some hot chocolate will cheer me up.

I'll hopefully see you again soon with another update, although I don't know what it'll be.

Yours Always

Chocolate Carnival


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